ady reduced
us all to the same level.

"Owen," said the captain once, again, "down with your arms!"

"Come on, all of you," shouted Owen to his companions, without giving
the slightest heed to Curtis's words.

A regular struggle ensued. Owen and Wilson attacked Curtis, who defended
himself with a piece of a spar; Burke and Flaypole rushed upon Falsten
and the boatswain, whilst I was left to confront the negro Jynxstrop, who
attempted to strike me with the hammer which he brandished in his hand.
I endeavoured to paralyze his movements by pinioning his arms, but the
rascal was my superior in muscular strength. After wrestling for a few
moments, I felt that he was getting the mastery over me when all of a
sudden he rolled over on to the platform, dragging me with him. Andre
Letourneur had caught hold of one of his legs, and thus saved my life.
Jynxstrop dropped his weapon in his fall; I seized it instantly, and
was about to cleave the fellow's skull, when I was myself arrested by
Andre's hand upon my arm.

By this time the mutineers had been driven back to the forepart of the
raft, and Curtis, who had managed to parry the blows which had been
aimed at him, had caught hold of a hatchet, with which he was preparing
to strike at Owen. But Owen made a sidelong movement to avoid the blow,
and the weapon caught Wilson full in the chest. The unfortunate man
rolled over the side of the raft and instantly disappeared.

"Save him! save him!" shouted the boatswain.

"It's too late; he's dead!" said Dowlas.

"Ah, well! he'll do for--" began the boatswain; but he did not finish
his sentence.

Wilson's death, however, put an end to the fray. Flaypole and Burke were
lying prostrate in a drunken stupour, and Jynxstrop was soon overpowered,
and lashed tightly to the foot of the mast. The carpenter and the
boatswain seized hold of Owen.

"Now then," said Curtis, as he raised his blood-stained hatchet, "make
your peace with God, for you have not a moment to live."

"Oh, you want to eat me, do you?" sneered Owen, with the most hardened
effrontery.

But the audacious reply saved his life; Curtis turned as pale as death,
the hatchet dropped from his hand, and he went and seated himself
moodily on the farthest corner of the raft.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

JANUARY 5th and 6th.--The whole scene made a deep impression on our
minds, and Owen's speech coming as a sort of climax, brought before us
our misery with a force that was well-nigh